


Unexpected Insights

by koalathebear



Series: Fragments Prism [5]
Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max and Quinn are conducting surveillance on Paul Franklin from the van.  A 'missing scene' set after 3.08 A Red Wheelbarrow and during 3.09 One Last Thing, it's a further exploration of why Quinn did not visit Carrie in hospital after shooting her and also addresses Quinn's change of address.  Carrie's not actually in the story but she's very much a part of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Insights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mytimeoftheyear](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mytimeoftheyear).



> Prompted by **mytimeoftheyear** who wrote: "When and why did Quinn move to a new place? Judging from the properties across the street, it looks like he's living in a house now? Did he decide to settle down?" I know it's not exactly on point but sometimes the stories have a habit of meandering a bit :)

"Franklin's gone into his house," Quinn reported back to the control centre. "Have we got eyes in place?" he asked Max who nodded silently. Actually, Max did everything silently. It was no wonder Quinn had assumed that the surveillance consultant was mute when h'd first encountered him.

They both watched as Franklin poured himself a drink, took only one swallow before stretching out on his sofa to have a nap. 

"He won't sleep long, he's got an appointment with Bennet in an hour and a half," Quinn remarked and Max nodded again, still keeping his eyes on the monochromatic screen in the van that they had parked a short distance from Franklin's house.

The two of them had been conducting surveillance on Franklin for more than a week since Carrie's shooting. By this point, the larger team had been divided with Quinn sending two agents to follow Bennet while he and Max stayed on Franklin. 

Virgil himself was away on some assignment – clearly the security consulting business was always in demand. Quinn hadn't been surprised when Saul had continued to use Virgil and Max after the Brody surveillance – quirky as the pair were, they did a good job and they were reliable. They were also clearly very loyal to Carrie, which was something that Quinn found intriguing.

It was his first time working alone with Max. The awkward young man rarely said anything unless he really had to, his bespectacled eyes mild and almost distant as if his mind was always on other things. He always looked slightly mournful as well, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"Been to see Carrie this week?" Quinn asked casually as he handed Max a sandwich that he'd bought earlier. He held up can of Coke and a bottle of water. When Max indicated the water, he tossed the bottle to him lightly.

"Yeah. Went with Virgil yesterday. She was in a foul mood," Max commented and then took a bite of his sandwich. "Doctor says the wound will heal well - no permanent damage." He swallowed. "Good shot," he told Quinn with a faint air of admiration in his voice.

"Thanks," Quinn muttered. "Guess that means she told you."

"She said, and I quote 'Quinn, that son of a bitch shot me'."

Quinn winced and was surprised when a faint smile puckered the corner of Max's mouth. He didn't think he'd ever seen Max smile during any of their surveillance operations.

"Want to know how many times Virgil's wanted to shoot her when she's ruined an op by deviating from the plan?"

"So you and Virgil – you've been friends with her a long time?" Quinn asked curiously, his light eyes studying the younger man.

Max shrugged. "She and Virgil go way back. I suppose you could call them friends." 

"But not you?" Quinn raised an eyebrow quizzically.

Max shrugged. "She's always been … odd. Throws a tantrum when she doesn't get her way ... walks all over Virgil and he lets her – it's how she is with most people."

"She is certainly unique," Quinn agreed.

"Understatement. Are you going in to see her?" Max asked him.

Quinn raised both eyebrows this time. "Given how she feels about me right now, me showing up would probably be detrimental to her recovery. No … I'll give her the space she needs." He didn't add that he had waited at the hospital during the entire surgery and he still checked up on her progress on a daily basis. He just didn't visit. As accomplished a liar as he was, he didn't think he'd be able to hide all of the things that he now knew – things about Brody and also things that he knew about her.

Max stared down at the paper that had wrapped his sandwich and carefully folded it into a small and neat triangle. "See you've learned how to manage her. Craziness and all."

"Bipolar disorder is the term, I believe …"

"Yeah there's that but there's also the plain Carrie crazies," Max remarked, his eyes very serious. "Her obsession with Brody – that's just plain mad... The guy's a terrorist."

Quinn nodded slowly. "I can't disagree with you there … but love can make people behave irrationally at times."

"So they tell me. Only problem is she drags a whole bunch of us down the rabbit hole with her – even you and you should know better."

"How do you figure?" Quinn asked, looking amused rather than offended by the observation.

"I know who you are … what you do … wouldn't have thought you'd have much patience for Carrie's tantrums."

Quinn thought for a moment before replying. "Carrie has no malice in her … and she has a remarkable amount of insight when not clouded by the Brody thing."

"The Brody 'thing' consumes her life."

"There is that," Quinn agreed with a twisted smile.

"But you like her." It wasn't a question.

Quinn took a long time to respond. "It's really not like that between us."

"I figure – the way you put up with some of her crap, you must be half in love with her."

Quinn gave a short laugh. Of all the things he had expected to be doing during this afternoon's surveillance, the last thing he could have predicted would be discussing matters of the heart with Max the 'mute'.

"If things were different," was all he would say.

Max looked dubious. "Different how? Like if she wasn't a bipolar non-compliant with her meds and in love with a terrorist and you weren't in CIA black ops who makes a living out of assassinating people?"

"Like that," Quinn agreed, looking genuinely amused. "You should talk more."

" Already enough people in the world saying more than needs to be said," Max told him.

"Also true," Quinn conceded.

Max took a drink from his bottle of water and Quinn asked with genuine interest. "So what's your origin story, man?"

Max looked up. "You first – ever see your son?"

Comprehension crept into Quinn's eyes and he nodded slowly. "I guessed it might have been the two of you checking out my place that time."

"We put everything back where we found it," Max said defensively.

"It was obvious someone had been there." 

Max looked very offended and Quinn grinned. "It's my job to notice that kind of thing, all right? Because of that – I had to move. Fortunately into a house, so I guess I should thank you for snooping."

"You're welcome, I guess," Max told him. "So do you see your son?"

The smile faded from Quinn's eyes. "No. Despite what they say – some sons are better off without their fathers."

"No argument from me there," Max said obliquely. There was a long and awkward silence before a flicker on the monitor drew their attention. "Franklin's up and about again."

He picked up his camera while Quinn studied the monitor and reached for the phone to notify the other team that Franklin was on the move again.

"You know you haven't got a hope in hell so long as Brody's still in the picture," Max told him.

"Max – no offence but much as I've enjoyed our chat – I don't really need any relationship advice."

Max cleared his throat. "I'll drive."

"Sounds like a plan," Quinn told him.

As the engine started up, Max said,"Still can't believe you shot Carrie."

Quinn stared down at his hands for a moment. They were remarkably steady. He'd never admit to it but he's had nightmares in which the shot goes wide and Carrie falls like a stone to the road and never gets up again.

"Yeah, neither can I."

****

end


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